Monday, May 27, 2013

Forever Jocelyn



take the chance to read it, for free:

prose poem / remake from the novel
Forever Jocelyn, by Lara Biyuts

"Mon enfant, ma soeur,
Songe à la douceur
D'aller là-bas vivre ensemble!"
(Invitation to the Voyage / L'invitation au voyage,
poem from Charles Baudelaire's Fleurs du mal / Flowers of Evil)

My son, my sin,
scion of my soul… let’s go away
to the land
where we’ll be able to live together and love at will, love till death,
to the land that is like you!
It’s the world of a secret dream, where all is order and beauty,
luxury, peace and pleasure.
The misty sunlight of those cloudy skyes has the charms
for anyone’s tired mind.
The mysterious order of your treacherous blue eyes disarms,
shining brightly through the cover of their tears,
and we’ll enter          
the stately ancient house, where our bedroom is gleaming
with the glossy furniture, polished by the palm of the vanished years;
where the fragrance of the gaudy flowers of evil is tinged
with the warm scent of ambergris;
where coziness itself is time-polished. The high ornate ceilings,
the limpid fathomless mirrors playing every facet in the oriental splendor,
all will whisper there secretly to you in the soft native language of soul,
the only language worth understanding. See on the canals
the big gallant ships sleeping in their vagrant fancy way;
it’s for your least whim, dear, the ships came from the ends of the earth.
Sinking below,
the sun graces the seas and canals, the streets and buildings,
with shining hyacinths and gold, and the city is falling asleep
in the fiery splendor of the pre-gloaming glow…
My son, my sin, my scion,
let’s go away
to the land
where we’ll be able to live together and love at will, love till death,

to the land that is like you!














Monday, April 22, 2013

The Rite of Spring


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/April_21




"April Is Sacred Sex Workers Month"  
by Finnchuill

Along with transgender and genderqueer people modern paganism has by and large shied away from celebrating the sacred sex work that was an important part of many ancient cultures. Many well-known deities like Venus had aspects that were matrons of sex workers, and others had sex workers involved in their festivities and rites like those of Bona Dea.
Prostitutes had a role in several ancient Roman religious observances, mainly in the month of April. On April 1, women honored Fortuna Virilis, "Masculine Luck," on the day of the Veneralia, a festival of Venus. According to Ovid, prostitutes joined married women (matronae) in the ritual cleansing and reclothing of the cult statue of Fortuna Virilis. Usually, the boundary between respectable women and the infames was carefully drawn: for example, when a priestess traveled through the streets, attendants moved prostitutes along with other "impurities" out of her path.
On April 23, prostitutes made offerings at the Temple of Venus Erycina which had been dedicated on that date in 181 BC, as the second temple in Rome to Venus Erycina (Venus of Eryx), a goddess associated with prostitutes. The date coincided with the Vinalia, a wine festival. So-called ‘pimped-out boys; (the pueri lenonii) were celebrated on April 25, the same day as the Robigalia, an archaic agricultural festival aimed at protecting the grain crops from the plant pathogen rust. It was dedicated to a god or numen of ambiguous gender, either named as Robigus or Robigo who was propitiated with the sacrifice of a puppy (the Romans were weird!).
On April 27, the Floralia, held in honor of the goddess Flora , women characterized as prostitutes erotic dancing and stripping. According to the Christian writer Lactantius, "in addition to the freedom of speech that pours forth every obscenity, the prostitutes, at the importunities of the rabble, strip off their clothing and act as mimes in full view of the crowd, and this they continue until full satiety comes to the shameless lookers-on, holding their attention with their wriggling buttocks." The poet Juvenal also wrote about the nude dancing, and perhaps prostitutes fighting in gladiatorial contests.
=====

Flora-lora-laralia. Meanwhile, we at Revue Blanche celebrate the next event. Read Lara's latest interview at Pick Your Poison Book Reviews: 





Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Hope Springs a Turtle










Hope Springs a Turtle is available to order now!!
This book is an ideal gift for the young and old showing everybody the importance and joy that hope brings.
Lara Biyuts is one of the contributors. Her poems’ titles in the anthology are 2: a poem from her novel "La Arme Blanche" and a poem "Secret".
“Inspirational.”
The kindle ebook version is ISBN-13: 978-1481039130 and costs £3.40
Click here to order:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hope-Springs-Turtle-Messages-Around/dp/148103913X/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1364237042&sr=1-3
The money this book raises for the mental health charity can be seen on Lost Tower Publications website.

at Amazon or your favourite bookshops.
This anthology is an eclectic collection of beautiful photographs and inspiring poetry from all over the planet, proving that hope is the power that unites everyone.

Secret 

Snow. The town looking blind.
Light. No colours, only white.
Town--like a ship stuck fast in the ice.
Souls--lost in the universal vice.
Wind grasping a will of your will.
Stoned, you never thought it’s so real.
Town… But I know a secret. Listen:
the ice soon will thaw,
and your sunlit town will sail
at the height of springtide.
                                         
Lara Biyuts © 2007

poem from the novel La Arme Blanche

The long dark autumn-evenings came.
The greenish-smoky sea.
The milky shining foam in darkness.
Exalted pray within the soul,
and shining icy clearness in the mind.
On the dark autumn evening, hail oh winter,
which comes from the far mounts!
Oh messenger of springtime, ever new!
We meet each other at the plage, and there
we wander over boulder-stones.
Then we go home. At home,
we shall recall how we would wander.
That’s all, and nothing more. But we enjoy so much!
Tell me oh darling why?
Your lips in silence, in the long dark evening.
The soul is quiet like the sea. We are in hoar frost, in lilac silver.
Am I myself? Are you yourself right now?
Becalmed, the sea is like the soul; it plashes, slightly,
all over turquoise-clad, because of tenderness.
It moves, it breaths, it heeds.
You are so beautiful! How beautiful you are!
You’re waiting for springtime like springtime’s waiting
for you. You’ll meet each other, two springstimes, two lovely youths,
and our world will hardly be enough,
and other will be dreamt by you again:
you two, two springtimes will inevitably dream of frost,
its furs and diamonds, dawns and gloamings,
the rose-like frosting over panes, the ice-drifts and white sun.
The village’s sleeping. Snow-clad roofs
like flags of truce. It’s quiet oh so quiet.
In the defoliated shrubbery, a head of a Satyr shows menace.
The runners of a sleigh, on end, are gleaming. Heavenwards,
the soul flies. The mind is dreamless.

Lara Biyuts © 2010

Some comments:

“I loved the photos in this book, they took me on a spiritual journey around the world.”
“A beautiful book.”
The paperback is ISBN-13: 978-1481039130 and costs £11.69

Friday, February 15, 2013

the sequel


















 eBook:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/284860
http://www.lulu.com/shop/lara-biyuts/lord-jocelyn/ebook/product-20694915.html
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17371264-lord-jocelyn

“I navigate and stop where I want, in command of my caprice, creative works and leisure; it’s difficult to imagine a greater and more sensible authority in the vital endeavour of consciousness full of constant movement. This power in its exclusiveness and absoluteness is equal to power of a sorcerer. Really, an author wakes people’s imagination, the imagination begins working and the people take the imaginative for real, for a moment, at least. An image turns into a vision, which scores the place of honour in any vivid imagination, by right of an actual reality, however odd it sounds. No other business could so successfully fuse into a single whole all treasures of life while preserving inviolable the most delicate design of my every effervescent joy. Jeopardy and omens, the forces of nature and my own ardour, the lights of a distant town and a wondrous unknown,  fleeting liaisons blossoming in rendezvous and partings and the fascinating turmoil of grand passion, faces, events and all the endless variety of life, while up above in the sky was now the sun, shining kindly or clouded, and the firm ground of knowledge, views and notions underfoot. All the continents are at my disposal, though my carriage is replete with my wondrous mighty homeland in shape of the books, which I had read or should read years ago, paintings, which I could not stop thinking about, my well-appointed room, and the flowers under glass. The silken strand of hair in a gold locket on my manly chest crowns my joy.” (Lara Biyuts. Lord Jocelyn)

paperback:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/lara-biyuts/lord-jocelyn/paperback/product-20698350.html




Friday, February 01, 2013

about cats and s'more





Cat's Cradle Time Yarns (Time Yarns Anthologies) [Kindle Edition] Carol Sumilas Boshears (Author), Monica Brinkman (Author), Donnie Nelson (Author), Lara Biyuts (Author), Erin Lale (Author, Editor), Candy Korman (Author), Tony Thorne MBE (Author), Susannah MacDonald (Illustrator)


http://www.perihelionsf.com/reviews.htm
The Perihelion review of Cat's Cradle Time Yarns is published
"Drifting from science fiction to fantasy, Don Nelson’s ‘The Sleepy Cat’s Treasure Hunt’ is a pleasant dream of a tale, reminding me of happy childhood days gazing rapturously at my Little Golden Book, ‘Captain Kitty.’ Nelson’s story features a cat sailor and his crew dodging the cannon balls of Pirate Dogs in the land of Grey and Pink. It’s sheer fun and escapism."
"Russian author Lara Biyuts will charm cat lovers with ‘Tomcat’s True Story.’ Her descriptions of cat behavior ring true. The prose could use some polishing, but the disappearance of King Basil, the rise of King Innkentius, aka Ken, and the cleverness of Barrwick make this a memorable tale."
"Monica Brinkman’s ‘Punky’ is a simple tale of a shelter cat finding a home with a human mommy. The prose is a little clumsy, the story predictable but sweet."




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